


the common tongue of you loving me

by sparxwrites



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Begging, F/M, Sex, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: “Shh, shh,” Jester soothes, pets Fjord's stomach, the soft dusting of hair there. “You’re doing so well for me! You really are.” She pauses, eyes him with such joy in her gaze that he shudders under the weight of it. “You look really nice with my fingers in you, you know.”(Jester fists Fjord into a state approaching religious ecstasy. That's it, that's the fic.)
Relationships: Fjord/Jester Lavorre
Comments: 9
Kudos: 117





	the common tongue of you loving me

She pushes into him, _one two three_ fingers, and Fjord’s sobbing on every inhale before she manages the fourth. It’s so _much_ , the stretch, the intimacy, the open vulnerability of it – he feels laid bare beneath her in a way that has nothing to do with being naked.

“Shh, shh,” Jester soothes, pets his stomach, the soft dusting of hair there. “You’re doing so well for me! You really are.” She pauses, eyes him with such joy in her gaze that he shudders under the weight of it. “You look really nice with my fingers in you, you know.”

When she wiggles her fingers inside him, as if to prove it, he hiccups on his surprise. One leg spasms, his mostly-soft cock leaks more precome into the dark thatch of his happy trail, and he rocks down against her on instinct with a low groan. “Jes’–” he manages, mouth open and lips shining wet in the candlelight as she slips her fingers out. “Jes’, _gods–”_

She giggles, over the slick noises of more lube sliding over her fingers, before she’s pushing back into him – four fingers this time, and the burn is so _good_. He opens for her, inch by inch, with every unsteady inhale and every shuddering exhale, for the constant and inexorable pressure of her. “Tell me what it feels like,” she breathes, rocking into him, a gentle back-and-forth to loosen him around her. Her eyes are huge, dark, liquid in the low light, caught by the candle’s guttering flame.

It takes Fjord what feels like minutes to remember how to speak.

“ _Lots_ ,” he manages, eventually, thickly, trying not to swallow his tongue. He’s spread so wide, and with her thumb not even in him yet– he can feel lube running down his ass, wetting the sheets below him, feel every press of her fingers against his insides, feel the weak twitches of his cock. He’s barely hard, but he thinks he could come from this, from the insistent rub of her knuckles against his prostate. “Need _more_ , Jes’, _please_ -”

She giggles again, then tuts, a poor attempt at being stern. “That was a _terrible_ description,” she says, but he hears the noise of the lube vial being opened, feels the rush of slick around his hole and over her fingers, and _fuck_ , he’s so _wet–_ “But I _am_ being _very_ distracting, because I’m _very_ good at this, so I forgive you.”

When she leans over to press a kiss to his cheek, he feels the brush of her thumb against his spread, aching rim, and _groans_.

She obliges him, his darling Jester, nudges first the tip of her thumb in alongside the other four fingers, and then sinks her hand in up to the first knuckle. He sees _stars_. When he starts talking again, he hardly knows what he’s saying – delirious with the stretch of it, the burn of it, the filthy-wet-obscene _noise_ her hand makes as it pushes inside him in its entirety.

“ _Fuck_ , Jes’,” he gasps, and his leg spasms against the bed again as her hand sinks in up to nearly the lowest set of knuckles. “Feels like- like you’ve _got_ me, like I’m yours, like you’re jus’– just _holdin’_ me, like you’re everywhere, wanna stay like this _forever_ , fuck, _gods–”_

“Oh,” she says, softly, and her knuckles pop past his rim. He cries out – too loud, the others will hear, he doesn’t give a _fuck –_ as his body accepts her in entirety, welcomes her greedily, sucking the rest of her hand in down to the wrist as he sobs. “Oh, that’s– _Fjord–”_

She curls her hand into a fist inside him, looks at him with wide-eyed adoration and surprise on her face, and he comes soft and unexpected. It’s milked out of him in twitching spurts, puddling pearly-white on his stomach as Jester holds him through it from the inside out. For all his loudness earlier, he is quiet now – whited out with pleasure as he lays boneless in the bed, surrendering himself to the way she has taken him apart.

It feels a little like dying. It feels a little like floating. It feels a lot like being reborn.

When he is done, she makes to pull her hand away, to slide out of him, and he makes a weak, wanting noise as he tries to gather his thoughts. She pauses, frowning. “Are you okay, Fjord?” she asks, softly. Even wrist-deep in him, there’s such concern in her voice that he thinks he might drown in it. “That seemed like a lot. Do you want to just… stay like this, for a bit, or is it better for me to. You know. Pull out?”

“No,” he rasps, voice wrecked and face transcendent, as he tries to gather his thoughts. He wants. He _needs_. He clenches around her, tight enough to make her gasp, tight enough that he thinks perhaps he might never let go. That he thinks, perhaps, they will stay this way forever. “No. _More_.”

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt was "Fjord/anyone and fisting?", and then i listened to hozier and ended up with... this.
> 
> anyways, come follow me @sparxwrites on tumblr for more pretentious erotica.


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